


Orange Spice and Suds

by JedimasterMegan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Before Galidraan, Boyfriends, M/M, That's it, They're gay your honor, this is really just them vibing and being in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28376952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JedimasterMegan/pseuds/JedimasterMegan
Summary: Myles hums, digging through his basket."I should resign."That gains him a snort from his cyare. "You care too much about everyone here to ever do that," he chides, poking Jango with the toe of his boot and not convinced by his act in the slightest.Jango sits up, twisting once to crack his back, and leans his head up against Myles' knee. "You're no fun, you know that?" he grumbles. "You don't even let me fake complain to you."
Relationships: Jango Fett/Myles the Mandalorian
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	Orange Spice and Suds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writehandman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writehandman/gifts).



> A present for writehandman! (@forcesensitivebantha on tumblr)
> 
> Thanks for getting me hooked on this ship bro, it's Very Good <3

"Good morning," Jango chirps as Myles plops down on the crate next to him. His eyes are half closed as he mumbles good morning back, slowly taking a sip of tea from the mugs in his hands. Jango wonders what flavor he has today. It smells fruity.

"Still tired?"

"Mhm."

Jango nudges him. "Are you sure you don't want some caf? It'll wake you up."

Myles shakes his head, slightly more cognizant now. "No. 'M not about to become dependent on that stuff."

"Suit yourself." Jango presses a kiss to his temple. "I have first patrol and then morning training, I'll come find you after then, alright?"

"M'kay." Myles turns his head and kisses him fully, and Jango can taste oranges and other spices on his lips.

"Really? The same tea as yesterday?" he says when they pull away. "I thought you would have picked something different."

"It's _good_ , now get out of here and let me finish _waking up_ ," his cyare mumbles. Jango laughs as he walks away.

* * *

After training, he finds Myles sitting on a crate near their shared tent, a basket of clothes next to him. There's no one else around, so Jango has no qualms about flopping down on the ground by his feet. "Being second-in-command sucks," he proclaims.

Myles hums, digging through his basket.

"I should resign."

That gains him a snort from his cyare. "You care too much about everyone here to ever do that," he chides, poking Jango with the toe of his boot and not convinced by his act in the slightest.

Jango sits up, twisting once to crack his back, and leans his head up against Myles' knee. "You're no fun, you know that?" he grumbles. "You don't even let me fake complain to you."

Myles laughs, shaking his head. He finally finds what he's looking for in the basket: a sock, and he folds it together with the one in his lap before tossing it back.

Jango grins. "So. You're doing laundry, huh?"

"It's _calming_ ," Myles insists. Jango hums, then laughs as Myles sticks out his tongue and shoves him. He rocks with the motion and ends up right back where he was, chin resting on his cyare's leg this time.

"Besides," Myles says, setting the basket off to the side and picking up another filled with clothes from behind the crate. "I thought it would be a good excuse to go down to the stream I saw out on patrol, especially after seeing your–" Myles gestures to the mud still clinging to his armor and clothes. "–current state."

Jango is a gross, sweaty _mess_ , and dunking his head under some cool water could not sound more appealing to him right now. "You don't have to ask me twice," he says, grabbing the laundry basket from Myles as he stands. "Let's go."

Myles makes a big, sweeping "after you" motion with his arms and grins. Jango kisses the smile off his face, then tucks the basket under one arm so his hand is free to hold his cyare's as they start off in the direction of the stream.

Every one of their current patrols end up passing the stream at some point, so Jango knows exactly where he's taking them to. He pointedly does not _run_ once they're out of the camp boundaries, but it's a near thing. He can practically feel Myles' amusement as he's dragged along.

Jango can just barely hear the rushing of the water when Myles tugs on his hand to slow him down. "You know, in your rush to get out of there," he says, glancing down at the laundry, brow furrowed, "I think you may have grabbed the wrong basket."

Jango freezes.

He could have _sworn_ he grabbed the second one Myles pulled out, but maybe he didn't, and he really, _really_ didn't want to go back to camp to pick up the right one when they're almost there and, okay, _technically_ this isn't something they have to do, nor are either of them currently on duty, but if his buir ever found out that _he_ screwed up their one excuse for coming all the way out here, he'd never hear the end of it and–

And Myles is doubled over, grabbing his stomach. "I'm kidding!" he laughs. "I'm kidding! You have the right one, you literally took it out of my hands."

Jango gapes for a moment, then shuts his mouth with an audible click, storming the rest of the way to the stream. Myles' laughter continues to ring out behind him, and it brings a smile to his face. He hides it, of course. He's supposed to be mad because Myles is _mean_.

He drops the basket down unceremoniously on the shore, hearing his cyare approach. "Start getting that armor off so I can dunk your shebs in the water," he says, undoing the clasps of his own armor.

Myles hums, and when Jango looks back, he sees the other man already has more than half of his kit stacked on the ground "You'll have to catch me first," he teases.

Jango practically tackles him into the stream, clothes and all.

They did say they were here to do laundry anyways.

While fast-moving enough that it would be a good source of clean fresh water if they needed it, the current of the stream is rather weak, and the water only comes up to their chest before their feet touch bottom. All of this is to say that there is no hesitation when Jango pushes off the riverbed and launches himself at Myles' back. His cyare stumbles a bit under the unexpected weight, but then he's laughing again, spinning this way and that as he tries to throw Jango off. When he refuses to let go, Myles uses their momentum to dunk them both in the water, and Jango finally gives in.

His eyes are closed, but he can feel all the bubbles rushing up around them as they separate. Jango stays under a moment longer, scrubbing at his face and hair to clean the worst of the dirt off. When he resurfaces, Myles is waiting.

"You missed a spot," he says, splashing him.

"Hey!" Jango sputters, splashing back.

Myles grins, and Jango watches as he wipes the water from his face. His curls are plastered to his forehead, making the effort almost pointless as they just continue to send drops of water trailing down his face. He tilts his head ever so slightly to the right, and the way the sunlight highlights his freckles and makes the dark brown depths of his eyes sparkle like the stream below them nearly takes his breath away.

"Hey," Myles flicks more water at him. "Stop _ogling_ me like I'm a piece of meat," he jokes.

He plays along. "What can I say," Jango sighs, smirking. "You're a very handsome piece of meat."

Myles laughs again, loud and bright, and if that laugh was the only thing he could hear for the rest of his life, well, Jango thinks that would just be okay.

* * *

Hours later, their clothes are still wet beneath their armor and the laundry was never actually done, but Jango can't find it in himself to care. Their campfire is warm, the stars are bright, and his cyare is by his side. He has his pauldron off so Myles can rest his head on his shoulder, and he presses a kiss to his cyare's forehead, reveling in the contented sounds he makes.

Jango is not a man who believes in forever. He knows from experience that nothing can last indefinitely. Still, he hopes that what he has now stays with him for many, many years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @its-captain-sir on tumblr if you want to say hi!


End file.
